Too Horrible For Words
by Julia451
Summary: "In college, I once got an A- on a test, and my parents wouldn't talk to me for a week!" Peter never stopped to think *which part* of that statement was what Egon considered "too horrible for words," nor prepare himself for when Janine heard what *he* confessed to. One-shot dealing with the fallout after "The Devil To Pay."


"So far, these homeless shelters are willing to take 200 pounds of it."

Egon read the list Janine handed to him and groaned at the small dent in their very unwelcome surplus. "Good – only 5,800 pounds to go." He heaved a miserable sigh as he gave the paper back to his secretary. "Keep making calls until it's all gone."

"You got it, boss. After all, you know there's nothing else I'd rather do than get rid of _three tons_ of deviled ham while you guys spend a week in Tahiti." Having made her opinion of the arrangement clear for the sixtieth or so time since last night, Janine began thumbing through the phone book again, mumbling about how they ought to just make Dr. Venkman eat all 6,000 pounds of the stuff. Privately admitting that the idea definitely had merit, Egon continued on his way to the stairs, only to stop on the first step when Ecto-1 pulled into the garage.

"That took longer than expected for a few Class 2's," Egon observed as Ray climbed out of the driver's side, two steaming traps dangling from his right hand. "Any problems?"

"Nah," Ray assured him. "Winston just needed to stop at the bank on the way home."

Winston was already making his way towards Janine's desk. "$3,000.00 from Macy's for two basic removals..." He handed her the check for the job and then, to her surprise, took his wallet out of his back pocket and handed her two bills. "... and put this in petty cash."

Janine still didn't get it. "But there's forty dollars here – you said you only borrowed twenty."

"Interest," Winston said with a shrug and a smile.

"That's hardly necessary, Winston," Egon said as he joined them.

Ray followed him and added, "Yeah – have you seen the expenses Peter charges? Ten bucks for 'field training' to go see a horror movie, fifty for 'meeting with new client' to take a girl out to dinner..."

"I know, but it'll make me feel better."

"Aw, that's sweet of you," Janine said with a smile as she pulled out the strongbox from her bottom desk drawer.

Winston hung his head and sighed in relief while she unlocked the box. "Man, I'm glad that's over. I meant to tell you guys, really. I was gonna put it back at the end of the week, I-I just..."

Grinning broadly, Ray put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Come on, buddy, don't beat yourself up over twenty bucks."

"I swear, it's the only time I've ever done this. I..."

Even Egon was unable to contain his own faint grin at his friend's disproportionate self-reproach. "It's all right, Winston."

But Winston's guilt trip wasn't over yet. "It was stupid. I was just short on cash... I forgot all about her birthday! If I hadn't, I never would've have blown it all on that stupid watch. I was gonna ask, but..."

"Sheesh, Winston, forget about it, all right? We forgive you!" The four of them all turned with matching glares of annoyance towards the pole where the man who was solely responsible for this mess had just slid down. Peter strolled towards them as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Well, plane leaves tomorrow. We've gotta be up bright and early at five a.m. sharp. Everybody packed?"

There was a brief pause before Ray turned to the others and asked, "Is it too late to give back the vacation _and_ the rest of the first prize?"

"No way!" Peter yelled frantically. "I don't care if I have to eat three tons of deviled ham all by myself, we are _going_ to Tahiti!"

"Do we _have_ to?" Winston moaned, no more enthusiastic than the others about Peter dragging them across the world so he could lounge around on a hammock.

"I'll take your ticket if you don't want it," Janine piped up.

Peter stepped right up to the edge of her desk. "Oh, no, you don't – bachelors only, no females allowed. You know the rules against gals tagging along on a trip for Just The Guys."

Janine scoffed at this. "Oh, yeah, I bet you won't let _any_ of the ladies you meet 'tag along' while you're hanging out on the beach with 'Just The Guys'."

"No, ladies are welcome to tag along... when they come with perks..."

Janine grabbed his collar in both hands. "I'll show you perks..."

Egon grabbed each of their shoulders and pulled them apart. "I'm afraid you'll have to get in line before you can kill him, Janine."

His smile unchanged, Peter said, "Come on, guys, you're not still mad, are you? Nobody got hurt. No lasting damage was done..."

"No damage?! You nearly cost us our lives!" Ray reminded him.

"You nearly cost us our _souls_!" added Winston.

"_Nearly_," the accused pointed out. "Nobody lost anything."

"No thanks to any effort of yours," said Egon, crossing his arms.

"Hey, I got us a free vacation, didn't I?"

"You mean _we_ did," said Ray. "You didn't have to stand over a pit of spikes."

"Or get thrown in the ring with Samhain," Winston said next.

Peter had to take a nervous gulp before responding. "One, that _wasn't_ Samhain. Two, I would've done both if I could've. Three, there's nothing I can do about it now. Four, doesn't this make up for it?"

Winston only glared at him harder. "You want to make up for it? Next time, bet your _own_ soul."

Now Peter looked offended. "Hey, it was no picnic for me, either! I was tied to that roulette wheel, too, ya' know."

Ray took a step closer to him. "Yeah, and thanks to you, everybody knows our most embarrassing secrets!"

"Not my fault! None of us would have to know anything if you'd just spoken up from the start."

"How was I supposed to know that's what he meant?"

"Admit it – you knew from the beginning, didn't you?"

"I..." Ray didn't get any farther before his tone abruptly deflated. "Yeah, I... figured that was it." He held his head in both hands as he groaned at the memory of his own confession. "Oh, I'm never gonna live that down!"

"You can say that again," Winston agreed. "Yuck."

"Do I want to know?" Janine asked with an amused grin.

Peter held up his hand to halt that inquiry. "Sorry, guy code forbids it."

"Aw, what does it matter?" Ray asked in despair. "I... I ate a cookie covered in Slimer's slime! It was an accident!"

"Ugh!" Janine covered her mouth with her hand but, in a very impressive display of self-control, managed to keep her lunch down.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed with a nod, his smile fully restored. "And he couldn't even own up to it until he made the rest of us suffer, too."

"Hey, don't try to blame Ray for this," Winston warned him.

"You're right," Peter instantly conceded in his typical laid-back tone. "If we're gonna be mad at anyone, it should be Mr. Brainiac over here." He gestured over his shoulder at Egon. "He got away scot free."

Egon scowled at the back of his head, as confused as he was irritated. "What are you talking about?"

Peter didn't seem to have heard him. "We oughta make him confess something _really_ embarrassing to make it even. I'd actually like to know what evil lurks in the minds of geniuses, wouldn't you?"

In spite of Peter's casual, joking tone, Ray was instantly driven to defend his friend and said indignantly, "Hey, he had to confess just like the rest of us."

"Yeah... to getting an A-... on a test... back in college..." Peter's obvious efforts to control himself were all in vain. He gave up and burst into raucous laughter that had been delayed by the circumstances in which the bombshell was dropped and all the subsequent excitement thereafter. "Oh, the shame! The disgrace! The horror! The humanity! Say it isn't so, Egon! Anything but that! How can you ever show your face to the world again? We'll all have to change our names and move to another state, where no one will ever suspect we were affiliated with such... oh, I can't stand to think of it! Our friend, our partner, our leader, an A _minus _student! You think you know someone..."

"_That's_ what you thought was...?" That was as far as Egon got before he stopped, as if shocked by the sound of his own voice.

"Well, I'm sure it did you some good, getting that off your chest. Now you can let it go."

"I didn't..." Egon began to say, only to stop again.

"Maybe you were just embarrassed that you _still_ obsessed over that after all these years? Yeah, that makes more sense."

"Yeah... _that's_ it." Egon's icy monotone sent chills up everyone's spine, not least of all Peter, who instantly shut up. After staring at the latter for a few silent seconds with narrowed eyes full of either repressed pain, fury, or both, Egon finally turned away from the circle and – his head held high, his arms held stiffly at his sides – marched slowly and deliberately up the stairs and out of sight. His bewildered friends heard his footsteps head towards his lab, the door slam shut, and then silence.

"Was it something I said?" Peter asked innocently, never dreaming that him laughing the way such an absurd confession deserved could have actually hurt his friend.

"You didn't have to give Egon such a hard time about it," Winston tried to explain. Ray didn't say a word but merely crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Like you didn't want to? Come on, guys, he's the only one who _didn't_ give away an untellable secret – we're entitled to a little compensation."

"What, you think he's lying?"

"Not possible, given the circumstances. No, that's the sad part – he really _must_ think that's the most embarrassing thing anyone could ever know about him."

"No, he doesn't." Everyone turned in shock towards the uncharacteristically grave and solemn voice coming out of Ray's mouth. He turned away and headed upstairs without elaborating.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Peter called after him, but Ray didn't even look down before he disappeared from view. Not satisfied, Peter followed after him. "Come on, Ray, what's the deal? Hey..."

Janine propped her arms up on her desk and laced her fingers together, resting her chin on them. She and Winston followed Venkman's retreating figure with their eyes until he was out of sight. "You guys _do _need a vacation," she observed. "Not as bad as I do, but still..."

"Maybe you're right," Winston rubbed his head as he pondered his friends' strange behavior.

"So, Egon's deepest, darkest secret is that he once got an A- on a test, huh?"

"Guess so."

"And you confessed to taking twenty dollars from petty cash, right?"

"Yep."

"And Ray confessed to... ugh!" Janine shuddered, unable to finish the thought, but judging by the way Winston cringed and covered his own mouth, the rest was better left unsaid.

"Don't remind us!"

"No problem – there's just one thing I'd like to know..." Uh-oh. Winston gulped as he prayed that his guess about what she'd ask next was wrong. Sure enough, Janine leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her eyes and whispered, "What did Dr. V confess to?"

"I forget," Winston said instantly, hurrying towards the staircase. No matter how angry they still were at Peter, none of them would wish Janine's wrath on their worst enemy.

Janine stood up, placing both her hands flat on the desk. "Hey, what's your hurry?"

"Remember to push the deviled ham!"

"Where are you going? Winston, come back here!"

Winston took refuge in the bunk room, the one room Janine never entered unless it was an emergency, locking the doors for good measure. Janine, however, didn't waste her energy chasing after him, but simply walked around her desk, her arms crossed, and her eyes full of the suspicion his reaction had triggered. What was he hiding? What didn't he want her to know? There could be only one reason why everyone was so tight-lipped on the subject…

While she mulled over that mystery, Peter found Ray sitting at the kitchen table. "Did I miss something here, Ray?"

"You don't get it." It was said, not as a question, but as a recent discovery only made just then.

"No, I don't, so why don't you fill me in?"

Ray shook his head. "It's... it's none of my business. I don't have the right to..."

What could be _that_ serious? "To what? What did I say? You think we need to be a little more sensitive towards Egon when it comes to his grades from years ago?"

"No, not that..." Ray looked up and asked with resolve, "You really think Egon would think _we'd_ care enough about an A- on a test to be embarrassed to tell us about it?"

Utterly clueless where this was going, Peter answered in complete sincerity, "Obviously, he does, since he did."

"No, he didn't. You've got this all wrong, Peter. That's _not_ what he's ashamed of."

"I hope not – it's just too painful for him to remember, I guess."

"No, _that part_ isn't."

"You heard him, Ray."

"But _you_ didn't. Do you remember what he said?" Peter opened his mouth, but Ray held up his finger and said with emphasis, "What did he say _exactly_?"

Still with no idea where this was going, but with no reason to object, and with every detail of those moments that he feared at the time might be his last permanently engraved in his memory, Peter shrugged and answered, " 'In college, I once got an A- on a test, and my parents wouldn't talk to me for a week.' "

"Exactly!"

Peter began to ask, "What are you...?" before it suddenly hit him, and his voice ground to a halt in his mouth. _"...and my parents wouldn't talk to me for a week..."_ He'd immediately assumed that the grade was what Egon would rather die than confess, what only the threat of harm to his friends could motivate him to confess. Was Ray saying that he had concluded that the deepest, darkest secret Egon was most ashamed of, that he considered "too horrible for words," that he couldn't bear to talk about, that he would rather die than admit, was...? "You're not saying...?" Ray only nodded, and the implications sank in slowly and painfully. "No way, that's not… whoah." Peter realized something else that hadn't occurred to him during the ordeal. "That wasn't news to you, was it?"

"Nope." That didn't surprise Peter – Ray and Egon had been much closer in college than he had been to either of them, drawn together by a mutual belief in and fascination with the supernatural that Peter didn't fully come to share until that afternoon in the public library. Ray took Peter's silence as an invitation to go on, but it was clear he did so reluctantly: "He didn't talk about it much, just let a few things drop here and there, but I could tell. His letters or phone calls from his parents always had a bad effect on him. He put so much pressure on himself, but it was never good enough for them. His mom was always butting into his business, constantly nagging him about what he ate, how much he studied, how much sleep he got, what classes he took, how his professors treated him, like she didn't trust him to take care of himself. And his dad... man, that guy should've been a drill sergeant. No matter what he did, his dad could always tell him in excruciating, minute detail how it could be better – every paper he wrote, every experiment he did, every test he took... if you weren't perfect in his book, you were a failure."

"Egon's or his dad's?"

"Both – if his dad couldn't settle for anything less than perfection, neither would he. It was kind of hard to watch some days. I always expected college would be fun, and, for me, it was, but for Egon, it was war, and classes and grades were the enemy he had to defeat or die trying."

"Sounds brutal."

"That's what I thought, too."

All those years of relying on Egon to help him get through college and grad school, and he'd never noticed what he was going through. He'd never been interested – there had been too many pranks to play, too many frat parties to attend, too many girls to hit on in those days to have time to notice if his stoic, emotionless, eternally quiet and reserved friend was ever more quiet or reserved than usual. He wasn't at all surprised that Ray had noticed, though; even back then, the guy had more empathy and heart than Peter considered advisable for most human beings. He _would_ have been able to sense his friend's distress and its primary cause with little spoken on the subject.

They were both quiet until Peter finally gave into the need to say, "I had no idea."

"He didn't want you to – or anyone. He only mentioned it to me a few times, and I think that was just to convince me that it was no big deal, that it didn't matter."

"Convince himself, you mean," the psychologist added.

"That, too. But you could tell by the way he acted, by the way he sounded whenever he talked about them, or about stuff he did when he was a kid, that it was hard dealing with them, especially his dad. I didn't realize how much, though, at first – I figured it probably wasn't as bad as it looked. I mean, I just couldn't fathom how... how anyone..." No, someone like Ray _wouldn't_ be able to comprehend how cruel some people could be. "Well, I didn't think it could be _that_ serious."

"How'd you find out about the test thing?"

"I was sitting next to him when he got it back – sophomore year, Organic Chemistry." Peter winced at his own memories of every science major's most terrifying class. "I was so excited – I thought for sure it was gonna be a disaster, but we both narrowly aced it.

'Yes, we did it!' I said.

"Egon said, 'I guess we did,' but he didn't sound happy at all. I just figured he must still be in shock; I never suspected for a second that anyone could be depressed by a grade like that. I still remember how Egon closed his book on the test, like he couldn't bear to look at.

"I really don't think he ever planned to tell his parents, but when his dad called him that night, it sounded like he was grilling him for answers. We were working on a project, though, so I couldn't pay much attention. I didn't know what happened 'til I got a letter from home four days later. While I was opening it, I just happened to ask Egon if he'd heard from his parents lately, and he said, 'Not since they found out I only got an A- on that Organic Chemistry exam. They'll probably never speak to me again,' as if he'd said nothing more significant than '2+2=4.' I knew better than to think he was joking. I just gasped and looked wide-eyed at him, which I guess scared him away, since he sped up and walked ahead of me.

"I didn't hear how it turned out for two weeks, when I noticed him writing what looked like a letter in the dining hall one morning. I asked him, 'Who are you writing to?'

"He didn't stop, didn't look up, didn't miss a beat. 'My parents.'

"I remember how glad I was that I was able to control myself that time. I cleared my throat and said, 'Oh... you patched things up, huh?'

'It took them a week, but they've decided to forgive me.' That was the last thing he said about it."

Peter whistled when Ray finished the story. "Harsh."

"Well, I guess now you can see why he didn't want to talk about it."

There must have been a lot of things about his parents Egon wouldn't want to talk about. "Why did he pick that one?"

"I guess that was the first example that popped into his head, and both he and Dib thought it said everything."

It said a lot, all right; it didn't explain everything, though. "I still don't get it. I mean, so his parents were jerks – that's nothing for Egon to be ashamed of." It was a painful to talk about, no doubt, but humiliating? So unbearable that it was a struggle to force yourself to speak of even under threat of death? "That's not his fault. Why would _that_ be so embarrassing that he thought that was the big secret Dib was talking about?"

Ray's only response was, "_You've_ never been ashamed of what your parents have done? Tried to forget about it and pretend it never happened? Even though it's no reflection on you?" Peter didn't reply, but he didn't need to. Ray waited until he was sure his friend was all right before he went on: "It's not about anything being his fault; it's about the way they were, period."

It was true – you didn't need a Doctorate in psychology to know how mortifying it was for the world to know the ugly truth about a parent, and Peter had read more than enough cases of emotional abuse in his studies to know how people dealt with it. Once you spoke of it, it became real; as long as you didn't speak of it, as long as no one knew, you could pretend that it wasn't. Once people knew, they started seeing you differently, treating you differently – you didn't want anyone to feel sorry for you, so don't give them any excuse to. Yes, there _were_ some things you would rather die than remember, let alone share, and anything suffered at the hands of a parent would be at the top of the list. Peter now wondered how none of that had occurred to him at the time, but he honestly didn't think he was out of line in reminding himself that the circumstances had not been very conducive to rational thought or attentive observation. Ray must have known it at the time, though. Who knew? Maybe Egon's confession was what gave him the courage to reveal his own unspeakable secret.

Peter didn't know how long they sat there in silence before he said, "That definitely explains a lot," without needing to explain that he was referring to much more than the single statement that had sounded so ludicrous on the roulette wheel.

The conversation was then brought to an end by the entrance of the object of it. Ray cleared his throat and walked out, but Peter remained where he was sitting, while Egon filled the coffee pot with water and mumbled complaints under his breath about the present lack of clean cups.

At length, Peter ventured to say, "Hey." He took the "Hmmm" he heard in response as a promising sign of annoyed tolerance, as opposed to turning around to give him a warning glare, which would have indicated still-active hostility. "You know what I was just thinking about?" Egon, predictably, remained facing the counter with his back to his companion. "I was ten-years-old the first time my dad's Scam Of The Month landed him in prison – the first time my mom let me know it, anyway. It was only for two years, and he only had to do one-and-a-half of them, but that sounded like a lifetime to me. I used the standard excuse – told all the kids at school he was working on a top secret, undercover mission for the CIA. Got to enjoy three days of that intrigue before my mom's best friend's kid started telling everyone the real story. Ended up in the principal's office for the bloody nose I gave him, of course, which struck me as _very_ unfair. I refused to tell him why I did it, but the guy figured it out from other sources, so I got to sit through a nice, long lecture about how that was no excuse, that I had no right to do it, the kid had done nothing to me, what my father did was no reflection on me, and I shouldn't care what anyone knew or thought of it anyway – that it didn't matter." He had to pause for a few seconds there. "I guess I should've told him he didn't know what he was talking about. Didn't make me feel any less embarrassed the next few months, that's for sure. Or the next time my dad's con blew up in his face... and all over the papers. Or the time after that, or the time after that. Guy had a knack for embarrassing me... My mom always told me I shouldn't let it bother me, that it wasn't my fault, etc., but... well, you get the picture."

Peter waited to see what would happen next. When Egon didn't say anything, he added, "Parents – nothing but trouble."

"It's pointless to complain about what you can't control." Egon turned around at that point, putting both hands on the counter behind him as he faced his friend. "What a person says or does when they have a gun aimed at their head means nothing. We should all just forget what everyone said and heard."

Peter knew he would say that. "If you say so."

"The past is in the past," Egon said firmly. "It's over and done with."

"I know. Believe me..." Peter waited a few seconds before repeating with emphasis, "I know."

"Yes, I suppose you do..."

Peter was satisfied.

"Hey, Dr. V." The two men turned to the head of the stairs as their secretary announced her entrance.

"Hey, Janine," Peter said with a wink. "I hope that smile means you have good news."

"I just talked to Winston."

This told Peter nothing. "And?"

"And I learned a few things about your little game show adventure..."

That sped his heart up for a beat or two, but he was able to obey his orders to calm down without much effort. It might not mean anything, after all. "Is that so?"

"It's so."

"Like... what?"

"Like what your big confession was."

Peter bolted up from his seat, from outrage as much as terror. "He wouldn't!"

"It took a lot of work, if that makes any difference."

Egon quickly placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a nod and a look that said it had been nice knowing him before making a quick exit, obviously not wanting to witness the rest of the scene. Peter was briefly aware of a surge of indignation at being abandoned in such straits before every other emotion was wiped away by sheer panic.

"Did you really think you could get away with this?" Janine asked as she bore down on him.

Peter held his hands up in front of him as he backed slowly away from her. "I'm sorry, Janine, I'm sorry..."

"Too late for that."

"It's not like I planned it, I just... I just lost my head."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"It's all Slimer's fault!"

"So Slimer forced you to do it?"

"No, but he didn't have to go in there. I didn't make him do it!"

She had him backed against the kitchen wall now. "Don't give me that. It was all your idea."

"Yeah, but it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"That's what they all say."

"No, honest, Slimer bursts in on us in the shower all the time. I didn't think that..."

Janine's tranquilly murderous smirk was quickly replaced by a look of confusion. "The shower? Slimer?" She looked aside and her eyes screwed up like Egon's when he was working on an equation. "You mean the day he...?" Before Peter could even attempt to make a getaway, she gasped in shock as something clicked into place, then seized his collar in both hands in a fit of pure rage. "That was _you?!_"

"You're good." Peter mentally kicked himself, instantly recognizing he'd fallen for the oldest bluff in the book.

"And you're dead!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"How much did you see?" She pulled him forward, then pushed him back against the wall. "Tell me – what did you see?"

"Nothing! I didn't take a single peek, I swear!"

"I don't believe you!"

"It's the truth! Come on, guys!" he called desperately. "Tell her I'm not lying!" He turned directly to Janine and said, "I couldn't have lied! None of us could lie."

"It's true, Janine!" Ray frantically said as he rushed in. He held his arms out towards them but didn't risk getting very close. "He confessed to playing a prank on you, but that's it!" Janine, looking not the least bit convinced by this testimony, turned to him as Winston and Egon arrived separately.

Winston spoke up next: "If he'd been lying about not looking, he would've thought he was risking all our lives!"

"Let him go, Janine," Egon said calmly, taking a step forward. "We need someone to eat the rest of that deviled ham."

Ray nodded in agreement. "Yeah, otherwise it's just gonna rot. Think of the smell."

"Good point." Janine glared at Peter one last time. "I guess that'll do as a decent punishment. For starters." On that note, she released him.

Peter mustered enough strength to grin and say, "Thank you for sparing me, Your Ladyship," as she started walking away.

His fear snapped back to life when Janine turned back to him and said, "Don't get too comfortable. I'll get even. Just. You. _Wait_." Peter had no doubt of it, and even if he couldn't put off the inevitable forever, he was more grateful than ever that he would be escaping to Tahiti tomorrow – if those were to be his last days, he couldn't think of a better place to spend them.

The others now judged it safe to come closer. "Whew, that was close," said Winston.

For his part, Ray said, "You got off easier than I expected."

Egon was the only one who didn't look relieved. In fact, he stood farthest away with his arms crossed, glaring suspiciously at the pardoned criminal. "Particularly if he _did_ look," was the only thing he said to explain his demeanor.

Peter rolled his eyes in frustration. "Come on, Egon, you don't still think I..."

Egon didn't let him finish: "The only confession Dib was looking for was Ray's. Ours meant nothing to him. All he said about each one was that it wasn't it – he never said they were true but not the one. Who's to say we couldn't lie?"

"I don't know if we could. I only know I didn't."

Egon didn't seem any more convinced than Janine originally did. "You _really_ didn't peek at her?"

Peter sensed he would only make things worse if he said what he was thinking now, but he couldn't resist: "Why would it matter so much to you if I had?"

"Yeah, Egon – why does it matter so much to you?" It was Egon's turn to cringe now as they all noticed that Janine, beaming as triumphantly as if she'd just won a condo in Tahiti and three tons of gold, had stopped at the top of the staircase and listened to the entire exchange.

Egon didn't say a word as he made a flustered but quick exit. Janine, however, seemed satisfied by such a reply, and continued downstairs, humming all the way.

"Gotta hand it to you, Peter," Winston said when she was gone. "This is the biggest mess you _ever_ got us into."

Peter couldn't argue with that. He could only hope both he and Egon had suffered the worst effects of it already.


End file.
